Peace on Earth
by Rin Berry
Summary: "We are gathered here today to mourn the death of a friend, brother, son, husband and father, Ron Weasely..."


Hi everyone. I'm finally writing something- I know that a few of you have been waiting for something new from me, and here it is. Unfortunately it's not up to my usual standard, and it's not my trademark R/H. Well, there is *some* R/H in it but not how you think. Anyway, the part in _italics_ is Harry remembering how Ron died, and the part in _italic_ and *stars* is the song that Ron 'wrote'. It's actually called Peace on Earth by U2, from their album 'All that you can't leave behind' and I suggest you all go out and buy it cos it's incredibly brilliant. None of this is mine, only Lyra, Rev. Dibbden and the plot.  
I'd just like to say that I've luckily never had the misfortune of going to a funeral. This is dedicated to the real, not someone I made up, person I saw outside St Mary's church, standing alone in the rain. They'd just found their friend dead. The friend had committed suicide inside the church.

* * *

Harry walked into the church, trying deperately not to break down crying. His best friend was gone. Forever. He'd never talk to him again. Never.  
He walked up and took his seat at the front of the church, where he was going to be a speaker. Sitting down with his head in his hands, he didn't bother to look at everyone else arriving. There was all of Ron's family, ashen faced with red eyes. Ginny looked worse of all- she'd been especially close to Ron. Although Harry and Ginny were dating, she'd gone to her family for this traumatic time. Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, Padma, Dumbledore and most of the Hogwarts teachers were there. Even Malfoy had turned up. But last of all Hermione and her and Ron's daughter, Lyra, walked in. They looked worst of all. Their eyes were bloodshot and all that was in them was pain. Pain and suffering. They were pale yet blotchy, dressed in their best black clothes. They had resorted to wearing muggle clothing for this event. Harry looked up when he heard the imminent silence that followed their arrival. They joined him at the front, Lyra trying to manage a weak smile to greet Harry with; failing miserably, and Hermione silent and still; apart from occasionally wiping the shower of tears from he eyes.  
The vicar, Reverend Dibbden, slowly shuffled up the isle. He had been a good friend of the Weasley family for many years, and was shattered by one of the family dieing.  
Reverend Dibbden took his place at the front of the altar. He began.  
"We are gathered here today to mourn the death of a friend, brother, son, husband and father, Ron Weasely..."  
Harry tried to listen, but he couldn't concentrate. It was like he was alone, there was no-one else but him; lonely in silence. He looked around, desperately trying for something to let him keep his sanity. If he didn't get out of the silence, he'd fall. He'd tried to keep himself up, desperately trying to scramble up and up, to keep out of the pit of depression. It didn't work. He kept remembering the day Ron had died...

_ "This is it, Potter. I will finally kill you, and victory will be mine." Voldemort stood facing Harry, both had their wands ready for anything. Harry could only vagualy hear background noise, he was focused entirely on Voldermort. Harry could hear Ron and Hermione yelling, screaming, but this was Harry's battle and he had to fight it.  
"Harry, don't do it! Don't let him kill you!" Hermione screamed. Harry ignored her, he couldn't let his concentration fail him now.  
Ron stood in the corner, comforting Hermione, thinking things over in his head. This was his last chance to prove he wasn't a failure. Sure, he was 33, he had the most beautiful woman in the world as his wife and he had an incredible 13 year old daughter who was wise beyond her years, and was the Minister of Magic but he still felt he had something left to do. He watched Harry, praying for him in his head. Harry didn't deserve to die. He'd already been through so much, he had so much to give. Not like Ron. Ron had nothing, so he thought. After all the years of being Harry's best friend Ron had still got the jealousy. It had reduced immensly, but it was still there, niggling at his mind.  
Voldemort raised his wand, the words slipping out.  
"Avad-"  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ron ran in front of Harry, just as Voldemort finished the curse. He fell to the floor, lifeless, with a dreadful 'thud'. Hermione yelled, and ran toward Ron's body.  
The beam of the spell somehow bounced of Ron's corpse and headed for Voldemort. Voldemort dropped to the ground a split second after Ron. Harry stood there in the middle of two bodies, disbelieving. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't. He dropped to his knees and sobbed over his best friend's body...._

"Harry? Harry!"  
"What?" Harry blinked and stared at the faces around him. He was on the floor, clutching his scar.  
"Are you allright?" Dumbledore.  
"Sorry?"  
"You were screaming, holding your scar." Lyra said.  
"It can't possibly be Voldemort, can it?" Dumbledore said. What were you dreaming?"  
"I was..." Harry realised his cheeks were wet. "I was remembering Ron."  
"Oh.." Hermione said, wiping her eyes. "I know how you feel Harry."  
Reverend Dibbden stood up. "I believe we should carry on with the service, and remember Ron collectively." He walked back to the front of the church, and everyone filed back to their seats.

"We will now have speakers. The first speaker is Draco Malfoy."  
Malfoy walked up to the lectern and stood his notes on it. He coughed slightly, and began.  
"Ron Weasley and I were not the best of friends. In Hogwarts we were always rivals. I didn't like him, through my fathers influences. I had been taught that the Weasley family were not like me beacause they didn't have as much money. They didn't support Voldemort and there was always a rivalry between father and Mr Weasley." Malfoy paused. "Everyone knows this, but not everyone knows I was jealous of him." A gasp rang round the church. "He had everything I wanted. He had a family, a large family with brothers and sisters, who loved him. He had two excellent friends who cared for him genuinely- they didn't care that he had second hand books and clothes. I never had that. And I was jealous. As I grew older and Voldemort grew stronger, my support for Voldemort grew stronger. It was Ron who taught me that evil is not the right thing. I had seen him, Hermione, and Lyra sitting on the sofa. Hermione was asleep with her head in Ron's lap, and Lyra was aleep on hi other side with her head on his shoulder, but he was fully awake. He was talking to them, muttering. I could see the love he had in his eyes. It was so powerful, it was like nothing could break that. I had no-one like this. No-one truly cared about me, I didn't truly care about anyone. Sure, I was married, but that was only because Pansy and I had been betrothed since our early ages. I finally learnt that love is beautiful, and Ron, if you can hear me in the great white above, I want to thank you for teaching me such a beautiful lesson." Malfoy stepped down and went back to his place, and everyone admired him. He had never admitted anything so large before.

"We now have Mr Albus Dumbeldore."  
Dumbeldore hobbled up to the lectern. He was very old now, but he was still as active in his mind as he was 50 years ago.  
"I was Ron's headmaster for 7 years, and his friend after that. I worked with him to defeat Lord Voldemort, and was deeply upset by his tragic death. Ron was an intelligent young man when he wanted to be, as shown by his job as the Minister of Magic. He was popular with the students, who were attracted by his sense of humour, as were many people in his later life. He was admired by many, especially by other young men who were jealous of him due to his many female admirers. Ron did not let this get to his head. He believed himself to be a failure, which was definately not true, but he still compared himself to Harry. Ron was an incredible young man, and no-one should be taken from this earth, but it still happens. No-one wanted Ron to leave, no-one, but we must accept this fact and eventually move on. It will be hard, it will certainly be upsetting, but after life there is the next big adventure- heaven. As far as we know, Ron could be looking down on us, sitting next to you, floating by the stained glass window. I myself saw a blur there while Mr Malfoy was speaking. Let us belive he is here in spirit, and will never truly leave us. Thank you." Dumbeldore walked back to his place and sat down. Hermione sat, comforted somewhat. The whole congregation was still crying, sobbing, but Dumbeldore's speech had comforted all of them.

Reverend Dibbden stood up again. "I have been specially requested to sy that none of the Weasley family will be contributing. You will all understand how traumatic this time has been for them. We will, however, have our last speaker, Lyra Weasley, Ron's daughter."  
Lyra walked up to the lectern. She had no speech written or learned, only a funny looking box in her hand. Muggle-borns knew that this was a video, but the wizards didn't.  
"It's hard to come to terms with the fact that Dad's gone. I have to remember that no-one's there to make me or mum laugh when one of us is feeling down." She tared at the ashen faces. "No-one's there to totally thrash me at chess, even though I am pretty good, if I say so myself. Neither you nor me know what life without dad's gonna be like, but we've gotta learn. We'll all miss him, but he wouldn't have wanted us to mope around for too long. He hated to see anyone looking glum, and we should respect that. Dad's not a ghost and he never will be. He's sorted everything out in his life and he has no unfinished business, but I know we'd all like to see him again." Lyra paused, collecting her thoughts. "I've told you what I think, and I hope you take into account. Now I've got something special for you." She held up the video. "Now, I know some of you know what this is, but others don't. This is a video, and it has a recording on it. What this is is like a photo- the figures on the screem are going to move, but you'll hear them talking. You might wonder why I'm telling you this. Well, dad didn't like to tell anyone this, but he could sing, play and write music. He never told anyone because he thought they'd laugh at him. I only know cos I walked in on him one day. Well, when mum bought a TV, video player and a camcorder- don't worry what these are- she taught dad how to use them. Then he used to record his songs on them, I know know why, but he did. So, I've decided to show you one of them." Lyra briefly left the main church to go into one of the side buildings. "As this is a muggle church I can use electricity here." She wheeled out a TV/video player on wheels and put the video in. Ron appeared on the screen.

"Allright. I've got it working." he sat down on a chair in the room he was filming from. "So. I've finally learnt to work this corcamder, and I'm gonna test it out by playing a song. I don't know why I'm saying this stuff now, so... yeah, I'll shut up." He reached for his acoustic guitar. "I'm playing a song that a wrote about all the fighting going on right now, which I'm totally sick of."  
Hermione watched the screen with intent; she never knew Ron could do anything like this. She had stopped crying with her wonder. Ron started to play. There were beautiful guitar melodies at the beginning, and then he sang. His voice was unique, it was like a mixture of JK from Jamiroqui, Bono from U2 and Neil Finn.  


> _*Heaven on Earth  
We need it now  
I'm sick of all of this  
Hanging around  
Sick of sorrow  
I'm sick of the pain  
I'm sick of hearing  
Again and again  
That there's gonna be  
Peace on Earth_
> 
> Where I grew up  
There weren't many trees  
Where there was we'd tear them down  
And use them on our enemies  
They say that what you mock  
Will surely overtake you  
And you become a monster  
So the monster will not break you
> 
> And it's already gone too far  
Who said that if you go in hard  
You won't get hurt
> 
> Jesus can you take the time  
To throw a drowning man a line  
Peace on Earth  
Tell the ones who hear no sound  
Whose sons are living in the ground  
Peace on Earth  
No whos or whys  
No one cries like a mother cries  
For peace on Earth  
She never got to say goodbye  
To see the color in his eyes  
Now he's in the dirt  
Peace on Earth
> 
> They're reading names out over the radio  
All the folks the rest of us won't get to know  
Sean and Julia Gareth, Ann, and Breda  
Their lives are bigger than any big idea
> 
> Jesus can you take the time  
To throw a drowning man a line  
Peace on Earth  
To tell the ones who hear no sound  
Whose sons are living in the ground  
Peace on Earth
> 
> Jesus in this song you wrote  
The words are sticking in my throat  
Peace on Earth  
Hear it every Christmas time  
But hope and history won't rhyme  
So what's it worth  
This peace on Earth
> 
> Peace on Earth  
Peace on Earth  
Peace on Earth*

Ron finished playing and put his guitar down. He started talking.  
"That was dedicated to Hermi and Lyra. I want to say to both of them that I love them and no matter what I'll never leave, even after I've died, I'll always be there. Just remember that." He then seemed to realise something. "Wait... you guys will never see this. Oh. Never mind." He stood up and turned off the camcorder, and the TV screen went black.  
Lyra looked down the church. Everyone's ashen and tear stained faces were smiling. She felt proud that she'd managed to cheer everyone up at the solemn time. She then heard a voice in her ear.  
"Well done Lyra. I'm so proud of you." Lyra froze. She knew that voice.  
"D- Dad?"  
"Yep, it's me. Turn around." Lyra slowly turned around, and there she saw a blurry image of a red haired, freckled someone.  
"Dad... what are you doing here? I miss you so much.. but you're dead."  
"Yeah, I know. I've been watching the whole thing. I'm so proud of you for doing all of this."  
"Dad.. why did you do it?"  
"I don't know... I didn't want Harry to die. I'd have done anything to save any of you."  
"Oh."  
"Anyway. I have to go now. My work is done." The 'ghost' Ron gave Lyra a hug. She hugged him back, fighting the tears that were coming back to her eyes. I will not cry, I will not cry, she thought. Ron eventually broke away. "I must go. Look after you mother. She needs you so much. I love you both."  
"Dad- don't go!"  
"I've got to."  
"No! don't leave me! Dad! DAD!" Lyra screamed, the tears pouring down her cheeks, as Ron slowly faded away. "DAD!" She cried, and broke down, sobbing, on to the cold, stone floor.

Lyra didn't notice the people filing out around her, outside into the rain to the freshly dug grave. He's gone... forever... she thought.  
Eventually Lyra got up, wiping the forever flowing tears from her cheeks, but this made no difference. She walked out of the doors, and into the rain. The pouring rain mmixed with her tears and she couldn't tell the difference between them. She let them roll down freely, gasping for breaths now and then, because she was crying so hard she couldn't breathe properly.  
"Goodbye dad... I love you." she whispered, although no-one could hear her.

Or so she thought.

* * *


End file.
